


Lost and Found

by Frogluv123



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Camp Campbell, Camp camp au, Dead Character, Long Lost, Long Lost AU, Lost and Found, Lost and Found AU, Possession AU, but no mention of character death, dead jasper, jasper possesses david, jaspers like 11 in this, not jaspvid sorry yall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 19:03:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16708249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frogluv123/pseuds/Frogluv123
Summary: [Also known as Long Lost.]It starts out small at first, a feeling in his gut. He starts losing time, too, seconds at first that grow into minutes stretching longer and longer between blinks. It's worrying, but David pretends everything's fine.It's not quite fine.





	Lost and Found

At first, it's just a flicker. Something twisting in his hollow gut, a little tug and a little jump that makes him shiver. Gwen notices, giving him a sideways glance and a soft murmur of a question, to which David brushes off with a smile. 

Over time, however, it becomes something more.

It's gradual, spacing out between the days and vanishing before coming back again, in and out and away before crashing. He starts losing time, seconds at first (his tray was empty and now it was full and he was halfway to his table, weird.) but it became longer and longer. David would be in bed and blink, finding himself halfway out the door and dressed, hair styled to the side. He had to go back and fix it, although there was a yearning in his gut that didn't want him to. It was... odd, that it felt like it was almost someone else wanting him to keep it, rather than himself.

David wouldn't know what that would feel like, of course! It was just his mind filling in the blanks. As the days went by, he lost more and more, each time feeling like something was lost and something else found, a little hole in his memory for filling one in his heart. 

It felt... like home. Like friendship, like companionship, as if he always had someone by his side. Similar to Gwen but not quite, something... older, warmer. It made his chest ache and yearn for something long-lost, at the tip of his tongue.

It felt like someone he had lost long ago.

That was ridiculous, though. His friend was gone, and although he missed him dearly with a heavy heart, David had long since accepted it. It was okay, he said to himself, as he tied the old shirt around his neck once again. It wasn't a bandana, not quite. The last scraps of memories bundled into the fabric, words forgotten woven into the threads and emotions snug in the stitching. 

Sometimes, David would wake up in the morning feeling more tired then he rightly should, and something in his room was moved. His chair would be askew, and a memento would be turned or placed in a way he was sure it wasn't the night before. Other times, minutes would pass in a blink of blackness and then he would be in a conversation with one of the campers, no recollection of what had been said.

Preston would be rambling about a musical, or, more often, Max would stare at him like he had grown another head.

"Did I say something?" David would ask, and the boy would always peer up at him, like Max could read David better than David himself could. 

"You called me homeskillet and talked about Pokemon." Max responded, and that was wrong. David never played games like that anymore, never talked about them, and definitely never called anyone by that name. He smiled at the camper, who in turn scoffed and moved away, back to his friends.

David never called anyone by that name. He didn't have the right; it was someone else's to use, someone up and gone. 

He woke up at midnight one day, alarm glowing and desklamp shining warmly. There was ink on his hands and a singular sticky note (in the shape of a pine tree colored pale blue, the rest of the pad sitting nearby) in the center of his desk.

The handwriting was childish and loopy, so different from his own and surely not Gwen's. Distinctive, typewriter neat letters or cursive chicken scratch weren't even close to this. It was something different.

 _I missed you_ , the note read; a single line on a single tree on a desk in the middle of the night. David didn't quite know what to make of that.

\-----

The feeling in his chest hasn't gone away, and he's not sure if it ever will. It was light at first, as so many things are, just a barely-there flutter. Over the days and weeks of summer, however, it grew more and more until it settled between his ribs, heavy and foreign.

Now, though, it's gotten... lighter. It still feels like fog curled between his bones, pulling through the empty space in his chest with a feeling not quite comfortable but not painful, either. David distantly thought about seeing a doctor. He was sure that blackouts weren't a good sign, but couldn't bring himself to care all too much. 

The weight in his chest made him feel safe here, even safer than he had felt before. This place was a comfort, a link to the past, but now it was winding into him. Occasionally, right before or after he'd lose time, there was a flicker in the corner of his eye. A flash of color, a ghost of a smile, and a face that he'd missed more than he remembered or could express, leaving a yearning in his heart and an aching in his chest.

Whenever he'd look, though, it was gone without a sound. Where the sound lacked, though, there was still _words_.

Each morning he's wake up a bit more tired than he was used to, but not enough to be concerning. There would be smears of graphite or ink on his hands and sometimes even his face, which Gwen was always quick to point out. Through her passive-aggressive exterior, she seemed... more worried, recently. A bit softer and a bit more caring. David was always quick to reassure her than everything was fine, that he had just stayed up a bit late to write some letter or another. The more he used the excuse, the more skeptical and resigned his co-worker seemed.

She wouldn't press, though. David knew it; even with her degree in psychology. That was one of the things he loved about Gwen! He loved nearly everyone, though, in one way or another. His smile was always a bit more weak when she'd ask, though. 

David didn't stay up late, didn't write a thing. There was always a single note, though, in the same spot the first one was. Each morning, without fail. He wasn't sure when it had started being an everyday thing, but his heart fluttered each time there was a new message there. They were short, always short, sometimes even without writing; just a child's drawing in their place. 

It filled a space in his chest he didn't know was empty.

Each morning, after reading the notes one-too-many times over, he'd stack it neatly with the rest. Piles of _hello_ 's and _it's late_ 's and _I'm glad I'm back_ 's strewn in the desk drawer, each one a little reminder of something David couldn't remember just yet.

One night, as one summer month drew to a close and another began, he wrote a note back. A post-it of the same design in a faded green, reminding him of spring and new beginnings. In neat-and-clean print, a simple _how are you?_ left on the paper. David hoped it would be enough. He left it on his desk and turned in for the night, lamp left on in a soft yellow glow that bathed the room. The shadow cast by his bed, from nowhere and nothing in particular, went unnoticed.

The next morning, a blue note was next to the green one, a single word spelled out in writing he was so used to, that made his day just a bit more refreshing.

 _Better_ , the note spelled.

David didn't know what that meant, and he didn't care to ask.

**Author's Note:**

> please leave kudos (and maybe comments) if you like this work! i’d love to hear what you all think :)
> 
> cross-posted:
> 
> https://frogluv123.tumblr.com/post/168562183711/possession-au-part-zero
> 
> accompanying artwory by @mattieisheer : https://instagram.com/p/BqjJEzMn7YH/


End file.
